


Heat of the Moment

by lureavi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bad Flirting, College Professor Matt, Firefighter Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Matt had Anxiety and Bad Coping Methods, One-sided pining, Pyromaniac Matt, Questionable Chemistry Experiments, Shiro is a recovered Burn Victim, a lot of fire, eventual mutual pining, fire puns, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 07:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19145947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lureavi/pseuds/lureavi
Summary: Shiro is a professional firefighter, back in the line of duty after an accident in his previous town left him with more than his fair share of physical and mental scars.Matt is a chemistry professor, who aims to take playing with fire to a new level.They can’t help but take an interest in one another.





	1. Is it Hot in Here? Or is it Just You?

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for the shatt big bang! Enjoy some pyromaniac shenanigans with minor science lessons sprinkled in!  
> THIS FIC HAS ART FROM [@matesparkles!!!](https://matesparkles.tumblr.com/post/185430981518/this-is-for-the-shattbigbang-it-belongs-to-the)
> 
>  

A new town, a new department, a new team and new equipment. But the scorching heat, the thick smoke, and all-encompassing hellfire he was more than familiar with.

There was one civilian still unaccounted for. One person still trapped somewhere in this university building turned blazing inferno.

Classes were long over with by this hour, and if campus security was right, the only people inside at the start of the fire were a few members of the maintenance crew and a handful of professors lingering past their office hours. One professor hadn’t been seen yet.

The heat seeped through Shiro’s coat, and his numerous scars felt as though they were smoldering again. The ugly, prominent burns that painted the entirety of his right arm, the right half of his torso, his whole shoulder, and even creeping up his neck onto his jaw and cheek. The memory of agony tearing through to the present, of fire permanently searing his skin as debris rained down, as a building collapsed around him. As screams were drowned out by the roar of flames flooding his ears.

Sweat dripped down his face and back as he blinked away the waking nightmare. He had to focus on now, on one more person. Someone he could still save.

Among the rubble, the fallen chunks of ceiling and clouds of smoke, a flash of green caught his eye. A heap on the ground, trapped beneath a fallen support. Still, and unmoving. He cursed under his breath, praying the man was still alive as he made his way over as fast as he could. “HEY!” He called out over the deafening crackle.

The man jolted, his head whipping around to look at Shiro, “Hey!” he called back, weakly lifting an arm to wave, “It's pretty hot in here!”

Shiro crouched down beside him, barely able to make out his appearance with his copper hair and golden eyes drowned in the harsh orange glow of flames. He inspected the man’s lower half, pinned down be a heavy beam. “I’m gonna get you out of here, alright? You’re going to be okay,” he promised, bracing his shoulder against the beam to see if it would budge.

The trapped man just squinted at him, his eyebrows knit in confusion, “I don’t recognize you. Are you new? I’m Matt,” he introduced himself, rather calmly for someone in the midst of a near death experience.

Shiro was caught off guard by the even, panic-free response. That wasn't something he had encountered during a rescue before. “Matt? My name is Shiro, Just stay with me here, I’m going to get this beam off of you. Do you think your legs are broken?”

Matt shook his head, his gaze having wandered back to the fires steadily creeping towards them both, “nah, I'm just stuck.” The flames gleamed in his eyes as he stared, absolutely infatuated. “You see that rug over there? Look at it go. That thing burns slow. What do you think its made of…?” He asked in a dream-like wonder.

Shiro momentarily paused at the outlandish behavior of this ‘Matt.’ Surely the man was going delirious, the fumes getting to his head. Shiro had to act fast. He shook off the shock, and thrust his full weight against the beam, lifting it enough to drag Matt out. He grunted as he let the heavy support drop back to the floor, quickly turning his attention back to Matt, who had… started inching closer to the flaming rug? “No!” He yelled, grabbing the smaller man by his shoulders and pulling him back, “we have to get out of here, okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Matt mumbled, eyes never leaving the flames as he was dragged away. The smoke flooded his lungs now that he was off the floor, making him cough between words but still manage to babble on, “I'm just… excited, never… never been in a…burning building before!” He halted, nearly doubling over with the force of his coughs, “fuck… it’s smokey!”

Shiro pulled the already unbuttoned green cardigan off of Matt and held it to his face, “breathe through this, I’ll carry you!” As soon as Matt grasped onto the sweater, Shiro grabbed his free arm, ducking down and tugging it over his shoulders. He wove his arm between Matt’s knees, grabbing him by the thigh and hoisting him into the air before making his way to the nearest exit. All the while, wondering what the hell kind of person would describe themselves as ‘excited’ to be caught in a fire. Clearly, a delusional one. He sprinted out of the building, carrying Matt a safe distance away before setting him gingerly down onto the cool grass. He tore off his own helmet, tossing it aside and calling out an order that Matt barely registered.

“Holy SHIT,” Matt gasped upon seeing his rescuer’s unmasked face. He blinked rapidly. He must be dead. He must have stuck around too long, lost in the hypnotic dance of flames and perished, only to be presented with the very face of God himself. Or Satan, now that he thought about it. Whatever otherworldly being this man was, he was gorgeous. “I thought the fire was hot, but you are smoking.”

Shiro cringed, chalking this incident up to ‘definitely delusional’ as Matt gawked at him. Flirting was… not something he received as of late. Sympathetic glances, morbidly curious stares, or an occasional shocked diversion of the eyes entirely, but not flirting. Nevertheless, he pushed it aside to focus more on Matt, holding an oxygen mask to his face and brushing away long locks of copper hair to check for head wounds, “just breathe for me, Matt. How are you feeling?” He asked, “do you think you’re going to pass out?”

Matt was starstruck, and momentarily unresponsive. There he was, a raging pyromaniac, directly beside the most impressive fire he had ever borne witness to, yet unable to look at it. Too enraptured by the flicker of gunmetal eyes, of a perfectly sculpted face only marred by a flame of its own. He followed the reddened brand that covered Shiro’s cheek, curling like smoke that just barely missed his eye, flaring down along his neck and beneath the uniform. Burn scars were nothing he hadn’t seen the likes of a hundred times, but those cheekbones? That jaw? His eyes snapped back to the cool, gorgeously gray marble of Shiro’s. “I don’t know about pass out, but I’m definitely swooning,” he shamelessly admitted. He grasped at Shiro’s shoulders, pulling himself up and close enough to smack the poor fireman in the chin with his oxygen mask, “you’re so beautiful. Are you single?”

“I...Uh…what?”  Shiro uselessly stammered. Beautiful? As if his face wasn’t heated enough from the fire, now this? How was he supposed to respond to this? This had not been in basic training. This had not been in advanced training. He leaned away as Matt got even closer, “h-have you got a headache? Dizzy at all?”

“A little dizzy. You wanna get dinner after this?” Matt offered, the slightest bit light headed. He clutched tighter to Shiro, feeling as though he might fall if he didn’t, “I’m single.”

“I think you’re concussed…” Shiro mumbled, prying the hands from his coat and lightly pushing Matt back away. He was more than relieved to see a familiar face coming towards them, another fireman he’d gotten along well with in his first week. “Lance,” he sighed in relief, waving him over.

Lance squatted down beside the both of them, his hair disheveled and his face dripping with sweat, “oh shit,” he breathed, “Matt was in there? Is he okay?”

“Smoke inhalation, minor cuts and burns, probable concussion, but he was walking just fine,” Shiro recounted, surprised that Lance recognized Matt, “you know him?”

“Oh yeah, we all know Matt! He’s at every fire, but, uh,” Lance put his hand on Matt’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze, “usually you’re on the outside, buddy. What gives?”

Matt responded with a shy shrug, “I was just in my office. Wasn’t expecting a fire. I should have gotten out with the alarm, but…” he looked away, embarrassed by his lack of self preservation now that he was forced to acknowledge it, “once in a lifetime experience, you know? Couldn't help it.”

“Nah, dude. You’re fucking crazy. You’re coming to fire safety again, got it?” Lance wagged a warning finger in Matt’s nodding face before turning to Shiro, “anyway, Shiro, this is Matt. Local mad scientist, massive pyromaniac, good friend of mine. You’ll get to know him real well.”

“Are you joking?” Shiro hoped, although the pieces fit together in his mind. It explained Matt’s strange behavior better than a head injury alone.

“I’m a chemistry professor, not a mad scientist,” Matt snipped with a glare shot at Lance. He then leaned closer towards Shiro again, caring little for the concept of ‘personal space’ as he did so, “I’m also single. And, if I might add, really good looking when I’m not covered in soot. Maybe not quite as good looking as you are, but I mean you are REALLY-”

“Alright there, Romeo, that’s enough,” Lance snorted, pulling Matt away from a furiously blushing Shiro, “we’re getting you in the box, and off to the hospital.”

Matt clutched tightly to Shiro’s arm, fighting Lance’s attempt to drag him off, “wait, Shiro, Lance has my number!” he yelped, fingers slipping off of Shiro’s sleeve as Lance got him far enough away, “call me!”

“You’re coming on too strong, bud. Tone it down,” Lance mumbled as he struggled to lead Matt to the nearby ambulance.

Shiro stared, doing little more than open and close his mouth a few times as words failed him. He at least had the mind to give a small wave goodbye when Matt winked and blew him a kiss just before the ambulance doors slammed shut.

The only thing Shiro knew for sure, is that he was absolutely not going to call him.

Yet, as he went back to work, doing his job to help douse the last hot spots of the charred university, talking with paramedics and police, cleaning up equipment, he could hardly think of anything but Matt. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying the ordeal, over and over. As it was finally time to finish packing up and head out, Shiro was still distracted. So much so, a sudden arm around his shoulders made him jolt.

Lance hooked Shiro close, up on his tiptoes to reach the taller man, “you alright there? You’re zoning out pretty hard,” he shook Shiro lightly, as if it would bring him back into focus, “this was your first big job after being off on J’s, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, but I was just thinking about that guy,” Shiro confessed before he could think better of it. The last thing he needed was something to be teased over as soon as he started at a new station. Something told him a love-struck lunatic fawning over him was rather worthy of teasing, not to mention the part where Shiro couldn’t keep his mind off of it. “Is he… Actually crazy?” Shiro asked, trying to keep from sounding too broken up about the possibility.

“Who, Matt? He’s a bit... Eccentric,” Lance admitted, but quickly followed it up with praise, “he’s real smart, though! Funny, too. He’s a good guy. Oh, and he makes these little key lime pie things that are to die for, brings them into the station a lot. You’ll see,” he promised. He smirked at Shiro’s steadily flushing face, “you want his number, don’t you? I’ve got it.”

“No, absolutely not,” Shiro stressed, trying to subtly duck away from Lance’s arm to no avail, “I… I’m not going to just call some guy that hit on me after I pulled him from a burning building. He was probably out of his mind. Nothing about that is ethical...”

“Ethical shmethical! You think he’s cute!”

“I didn't say that...” Shiro mumbled, unable to really deny it. As he averted his eyes, he caught sight of a small lump in the grass. He freed himself from Lance’s grip and went to inspect the blob, finding it to be a familiar forest green cardigan. Matt’s cardigan.

Lance let out a low whistle, “that’s a shame, Matt left his sweater.” He fished a phone out from one of the pockets inside his coat, and waggled his eyebrows at Shiro, “guess you’ll need his number to call him and give it back.”


	2. A Surefire Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt tries (and only somewhat fails) to get a date with a cute Firefighter.  
> I'm not allowed to ever write a fic where the chapter titles aren't bad puns about the contents of the chapter.

Matt leaned against the counter beside his oven, pulling off a pair of oven mitts littered with scorch marks and tossing them aside. “Okay, but, on a scale of one to ten, how badly did I really fuck up?” He rummaged through the lone pocket of his cooking apron, labeled “HOT STUFF” in flaming letters, searching for a hair tie. While the tinted safety goggles sitting on his forehead pushed his bangs from his face now, he’d eventually need something to properly hold his hair back.

Lance sat atop the island counter across from him, swinging his legs as he eyed the bowl of what appeared to be soft, white fluff beside him. He made sure Matt’s eyes were averted as he dipped a finger in, “I mean, you weren’t exactly Prince Charming. Maybe like a 6.2?” He raised his finger close to his eyes, inspecting the substance, “is this whipped cream?”

Matt settled on a rubber band, the clear winner in comparison to a lighter and a few used matchsticks that crumbled as he grasped them. “You better have talked me up,” he huffed as he wound the rubber band around his hair, making a messy bun on the top of his head, “this guy was like, love at first sight. I have to sweep him off his feet.” He gave a defeated sigh, throwing his head back and thumping it against a cabinet, “and I've already 6.2 fucked it up.”

“You saw him through flames, with a concussion, after he saved your life,” Lance waved his hand as he spoke, ignoring the plop of white that fell from his finger to the floor, “I think there’s some bias there.”

“Of course it’s bias, I’m in love,” Matt half-sang. He draped a hand over his forehead, taking his dramatic display as far as faking a swoon towards Lance just as the oven timer buzzed. He stumbled mid-swoon, catching himself and scrambling to shove his oven mitts back on. “Fuck! My key limes!”

Unimpressed by the cheesy theatrics, Lance dipped his fingers back into the bowl of white, still unsure of what it was, “you know, I told him you _weren’t_ crazy. Don’t make me a liar.”

“Yeah yeah, get your ass off the pot holders, and stop playing with the bowl of meringue!” Matt scolded, and waited for Lance to shuffle aside before setting a hot tray full of tarts on the counter. He wasted no time in grabbing the bowl, spooning out neat little plops onto each tart. “Besides, between that apology thing we rehearsed and these key limes, I’m going to make a killer second impression!”

Lance snatched up one of the tarts, ignoring the glare he received for it, “You do have a point with the key limes… How’d you learn to bake so well, anyways?”

“My therapist thought it might be a more constructive outlet for my anxiety,” Matt explained, finishing up the last few dollops of meringue before setting the bowl aside. He put a finger above his lips, to imitate his therapist’s ridiculous mustache, and took on a mocking tone, “it’s not as dangerous as setting things on fire! It’s just a different kind of science, it can help control your urges!”

“Control your urges?” Lance snickered over a mouthful of tart. He covered his mouth, trying not to spit crumbs as he spoke, “hows that working out for you?”

Matt snapped his tinted goggles into place over his eyes, and grabbed his baking torch off the counter. “Not great,” he admitted and flicked on the torch with a whoosh of flame. He stared at the vibrant orange, eagerly waiting for it to shift blue.

Lance gulped, his gaze flicking between the reflection of fire dancing over Matt’s wide, shining eyes and the extinguisher on the wall several feet away. “You… you ever think that maybe you’re going about it wrong?”

“Nah.”

* * *

 

Shiro stared at the newly washed, neatly folded cardigan in his locker. He had vehemently refused Lance’s insistence on calling Matt right away to give it back, using the excuse that Matt had “been through a lot, I’ll give him a chance to recover.”

That recovery window had thus far been the entirety of Shiro’s 48 hour off-shift. Faintly, he could still smell the lavender of the detergent he’d used. He figured that washing the sweater was the least he could do while he held it hostage. At least now, he was about to go back on duty, and had a proper excuse not to call.

He rummaged through the lower part of his locker for a change of clothes. Though his shift didn't start for another thirty minutes, he’d been at the station for well over an hour, taking full advantage of the station gym. Attending a public gym again was not exactly a challenge his self-confidence was willing to take on just yet, but having his scaring visible to other firefighters wasn’t something he held the same anxiety for. No one here would stare, or ask uncomfortable questions.

Just as he was about to close his locker, another hand over his slammed it back open, startling Shiro enough to drop his spare clothes.

Lance managed to catch them before they hit the ground, and shoved them back into Shiro's arms, “sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, but you have a visitor!” he pointed towards the lounge, where several station members were gathered around, “Matt’s here!”

“What?” Shiro gasped, caught somewhere between excitement and panic. He tried to get a better look, catching glimpses of reddish hair and and an orange button-up between his coworkers, “Why is he here?”

Lance rolled his eyes, “he wants to talk to you, duh.” He circled around Shiro, bracing himself against the much bulkier man and pushing him forward, “come on! Let’s go!”

Shiro hesitantly stumbled forward, but his eyes darted around the room for a quick escape. He wasn’t sure what this _talking_ entailed, but given Matt’s behavior at the fire, he was sure it wasn’t anything he was prepared for. “Oh no, Lance, don’t make me do this.”

“You’ll be fine, you’re single, he’s cute, and he likes you!” Lance assured, giving Shiro one final push into the lounge.

“All of that is exactly what I’m worried about!” Shiro hissed over his shoulder, trying to keep his balance after the shove.

“Give him a chance, you cranky hermit!”

“I’m not a cranky hermit…” he grumbled and reluctantly turned to face his fear. Even a triple take wasn’t enough for Shiro to accept that the well dressed man across the room, the one with brilliantly golden eyes and vibrant auburn hair blazing across his shoulders like curling flames as it caught the light, could possibly be the same man as the flirtatious lunatic from the fire. He stared, hearing nothing of the world around them as their eyes met. For a moment, Shiro was sure he was dreaming, positive that the world couldn’t really turn silent as he gazed into the eyes of a near stranger in a perfect fairytale-esque cliche. Then, Matt’s eyes tore from his own, scanning down and back up Shiro’s body in a remarkably shameless once-over that ended with a toothy grin and a wink. Ah, yes, now Shiro made the connection. A split second of mortification punched through him as he remembered his lack of clothes, but it faded into more of a shy embarrassment as Matt clearly mouthed _“hot damn”_ at the sight of him.

Matt tossed the already half-empty tray of key limes he’d brought to the nearest table, politely excusing himself from the few firefighters still picking away at them to make his way to Shiro. “Mister Shirogane, I came here to apologize for my behavior the other night.” He stated. He stood at a comfortable distance, his shoulders squared and his hands clasped tightly at his waist. His voice didn't waver, exuding a sincerity that equally matched the fierce determination of his body language. It was a stark contrast to the handsy, love-struck mess Shiro had met a few nights ago. Hell, it was a stark contrast to his behavior from just a minute ago.

“Oh…” Shiro forced out. If there was a tinge of disappointment to his voice, he wouldn't admit it. He gave a polite nod, gesturing with a hand for Matt to continue, “I guess, go ahead, then.”

Matt froze. In seconds, all trace of his confidence vanished, replaced with a deer in headlights expression that screamed _I didn’t think I would get this far._ He, in fact, did not expect to get this far, nor did he expect Shiro to be shirtless, glistening with sweat like the romantic trope of his dreams. His confidence shattered. “I was…uh,” he peaked down to his own clasped hands, lifting the top one and slouching back to see his palm, “less than appropriate with you? And…” he held up his palm, squinting at it, “came on too strong?” He guessed, then risked a glance over Shiro’s shoulder to see Lance nodding enthusiastically and giving him two thumbs up. “Yes. That.” He confirmed, straightening his posture and re-clasping his hands as cold sweat dripped down his back.

As was becoming a theme for him, Shiro had absolutely no words to convey the mix of emotions he felt about this ridiculous man he barely knew. He turned, hoping to find some helpful input from Lance, only to catch the end of his friend’s encouraging gestures to Matt before he snapped back into a more normal position. Normal, in this case, meaning a hand to the back of his neck, eyes up at the ceiling while whistling. Shiro directed his attention back to Matt, disbelieving that this was actually happening. For lack of anything better to say, he settled on the first thing that came to mind, “are you serious right now?” The answer, obviously, was:

“No. I’m really not,” Matt confessed, breathing a sigh of relief that he could drop his poorly rehearsed act. “I’m sorry, you’re way hotter than I remembered and I’m really fucking this up. Can we start over?”

Out of what Shiro convinced himself was no more than curiosity, he agreed. “You know what, why not?” He reasoned.

“Okay, cool beans. Hold on.” Matt took a deep breath before turning and taking several steps away. He inspected his reflection in the window nearest to him, ruffling his bangs into place, straightening his shirt, and cracking his neck while he gave himself a mental pep-talk. He could do this! He was charming, he was brave! He wouldn’t nervously sprint out the nearest door when confronted with a hot shirtless guy, not this time. That only happened once. After another huff of breath, he turned back towards Shiro, marching forward with a newfound confidence before he could change his mind. “I’m Doctor Matthew Holt. You can call me Matt. I teach chemistry at Altea University, and I have an immense amount of free time after my office burnt to the ground last week and I decided to just give all my students an A- on their last paper.” He extended his hand, a dazzling smile plastered to his flushed face, “My therapist says I’m certifiably sane, and, as promised, I’m much more attractive when not covered in soot.”

Shiro certainly wouldn't argue that last statement, though he still questioned the sanity bit. He accepted the handshake, clasping their hands together in somewhat of a daze as he processed the absolute whiplash of _Doctor Matthew Holt, “_ you’re sure something, I’ll give you that.”

After a moment of silence, Matt lightly swung their still connected hands back and forth, “so, this is the part where you tell me _your_ name,” he explained, then leaned forward to whisper, “and then I come up with some witty and flirtatious response, and ask you to dinner.”

“Matt,” Shiro started, speaking softly and with an almost sympathetic smile, “I’m not going to go on a date with you.” It almost hurt to admit, given how dedicated Matt seemed to be, but Shiro wasn’t going to budge on his morals. Even if he could get reassurance of Matt’s sanity, it wasn’t exactly ethical to date someone right after saving their life.

Matt, however, could not have cared less about the rescue. If anything, he was rather disappointed to have been dragged from a fire so soon, though that disappointment was quickly overshadowed by _smoking hot firefighter._ His cheery smile fell upon hearing Shiro’s refusal. He tightened his grasp on Shiro’s hand, bringing his other hand up to clasp it from both sides, “What? But, I’m so cute and charming!” He insisted, “I even practiced.”

Practiced? “You… read notes off of your hand,” Shiro pointed out.

“Was it really that noticeable?” Matt glanced to Lance, who unfortunately nodded. He groaned in embarrassment, but turned his attention back to Shiro, “okay, okay, so no date. But, you’re new in town! And you probably don’t know a lot of people yet, so let me take you out to show you around? Just as friends?”

Shiro let out a long sigh, dragging it out as he stared into Matt’s bright, pleading eyes. His heart clenched at those batting lashes, those deep dimples, the light squeeze of fingers gently swaying his hand. What harm would one dinner do? His resolve crumbled. “It’s not a date,” he stated firmly. “okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, absolutely. Not a date. Just friends. We’re friends!” He rambled on, his blush darkening until it swallowed the freckles dusting his cheeks, “how about tomorrow night?”

“Sure?” It was more of a question than an answer, but it seemed to be enough.

“Perfect!” Matt gasped, his face lighting up with excitement and slight disbelief before he surged forward, wrapping his arms around Shiro’s shoulders, “I can’t wait! Call me, okay?”

Caught off guard by the sudden hug, Shiro’s arms hovered around Matt rather than holding him. “I… uh, yeah. Okay,” he agreed, a waver in his voice that could have been excitement or trepidation. He gave Matt a gentle pat on the back, “tomorrow night…”

Matt withdrew his hands enough to rest them on Shiro’s bare shoulders, letting out a shaky breath as the reality of _really hot firefighter_ shot through his mind again. If his rapidly accelerating heartbeat was anything to go by, Matt’s nerves were finally catching back up to him. “Tomorrow night,” he echoed, wracking his mind for a good excuse to leave, quit while he was ahead and make a quick getaway. “Well, awesome seeing you again, but, if you’ll excuse me, I have. Um. Very-important-university-professor-matters-to-attend-to!” He rushed the excuse, mashing the words together into one large conglomerate rather than a sentence. He slipped away from Shiro’s awkward embrace before anyone had time to question it. “Have a good work shift!” He chirped, already backing up and making his way to the nearest door.

By the time Shiro thought to say anything back, Matt darted out the exit, vanishing around the corner where he was safe to triumphantly punch his fists into the air. “Yes! Yes yes yes!” he softly cheered, shaking his hips and pumping his arms in what he thought was a private victory dance, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whirled around to see who caught him, the color draining from his face so quickly he felt light-headed. “Oh God. You saw that.”

Shiro gave a short nod, his lips pressed together tightly in attempt to hold back a laugh. “Were you just dancing?” He asked, unable to keep a chuckle from slipping out towards the end.

“Absolutely not.” Matt crossed his arms, turning away as if it would hide the massive amount of shame swallowing him whole, “there was, uh, a bee.”

“A bee,” Shiro snorted, not buying it for a second. “Of course. Well, you left quickly and I wanted to give you back your sweater. You left it at the fire.” He held up the sweater in question, unfolding it and reaching around Matt to drape it across his shoulders, “there you go.”

“Oh… yeah, yeah, thank you.” He ducked his head down and grabbed the sweater tighter around himself, “I’ll… I’ll be leaving now,” he squeaked out, slowly backing away and mourning his catastrophically destroyed romance that never even began.

Shiro placed a hand on Matt’s shoulder, halting his hesitant getaway, “Hey, Matt?” He started, waiting for the other to make eye contact before continuing. “It’s a shame you weren’t dancing. I thought it was pretty cute.”

With the amount of heat flaring across his face, for the first time in his life Matt considered pulling a fire alarm.


	3. Warming Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Matt's plan to get over pre-date anxiety is to set something on fire. It doesn't bode well with Shiro.

Matt was absolutely not crazy, nor did he have a death wish. Chemistry is an exact science, one he excelled at, and he knew every calculable risk. What’s the harm in an educated professional conducting a controlled experiment in their spare time to relieve some anxiety? Matt would argue that there was none, which absolutely justified setting himself on fire.

Nothing fatal, nothing serious, just a harmless chemistry experiment to unwind the ravel of anxiety he’d worked his way into. He’d deal with the inevitable lectures on unsafe coping mechanisms later.

In his defense, he’d taken every precaution. He’d gathered quality supplies, brought them to an abandoned lot with nothing flammable nearby, parked his car far away, tied his hair back, wore the right clothes, and even brought safety glasses. He even brought a fire extinguisher this time, which, in his mind, was a huge step forward.

The only thing left to do was call Lance, and let him know, in case the fire department got any calls about suspicious fires. The last thing he needed was a fire truck hauling in over nothing. Looking at the time, he only had a few minutes to get ahold of Lance before he’d leave the station for the day, and he was getting increasingly impatient as he spent all those minutes waiting for someone to pick up. Eventually, the mind-numbing ringing ceased with a small “Hello?”

“FINALLY!” Matt cheered, positive he had been on the line far too long. He’d gotten bored and started stacking cans of butane into a pyramid while he waited. “It’s Matt, I just wanted to let you know I’m gonna be setting myself on fire in that old abandoned lot on Cedar street, so if you get any calls about some dude on fire, it’s just me.”

“Matt?!” The confused voice on the other end of the call nearly yelled.

Matt brushed it off, too focused on completing his pyramid to care for the shock, “yeah, I know, I know, bad habits, fire safety, all that jazz. I promise I’m not gonna burn anything down, I even brought a fire extinguisher just in case! It’s all safe.” Just as he was about to put the last butane can at the tip of his tower, the voice on the phone responded.

“Lance left his phone at the station. This is Shiro. Please do  _ not  _ set yourself on fire.”

Matt dropped the can, that one and all the ones below it clattering loudly to the ground. “Oh god. Shiro.” He panicked, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound crazy to his firefighter crush. “Uh, how are you? How’s work? I’m doing great!”

“Do...Do I need to call 911?” Shiro whispered, voice full of concern.

“What? No, please don’t call anyone,” Matt begged, hoping the sound of metal cans scraping against cracked concrete as he gathered them back up wasn’t too loud over the phone. “That’s why I called. So no one tries to come put me out.”

“Where are you? Is anyone with you right now?” Shiro asked with an urgency on the verge of frantic.

Apparently, “just me and a metric ass ton of butane in that abandoned lot on Cedar street” was not the answer Shiro was looking for, and prompted him to insist on coming to get Matt.

Matt didn’t understand all the fuss, but it seemed as though there was no changing Shiro’s mind. No reason he couldn’t set up while he waited, though. Really, the more Matt thought about it, playing with fire sounded like a much better sorta-date than going out to dinner. Considerably less nerve-wracking.

He mixed a few cups of water with a generous amount of dish soap in an aluminum pan, stirring it up plenty before grabbing a couple cans of butane. He flipped them upside down, and used the bottom of the pan to push down the nozzle on them both, releasing the butane and slowly filling the pan with large bubbles. After that, he made a true, honest effort to wait for Shiro, but the bubbles were far too tempting. He dunked his arm into a large bucket of cold water before scooping up a heaping handful of bubbles, holding it up and away from his torso, then lighting the tip of the pile with a long handled lighter.

Flames burst from his palm, high into the air and only slightly warming his hand as every butane-filled bubble ignited and burned away. In only a matter of seconds, the flame was gone, and not a moment later did Matt find himself tackled down to the old, cracked concrete.

Shiro patted down Matt’s arm he swore he saw catch fire, relieved he had gotten there in time to put it out. “Are you okay? Are you crazy?!” He heaved, still inspecting Matt for any burns, or scrapes from the emergency tackle.

Matt laid dumbstruck beneath Shiro, his head carefully cradled by the other man’s arm so it didn’t smack the ground on the way down. He didn’t even register the adrenaline-filled yelling about his well-being, too wrapping up in the thought of  _ “whoa, this is definitely better than dinner.” _

“Did you hear me? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Shiro asked, rapid firing questions with almost no time for Matt to respond between them.

Once he was done, Matt reached to hook an arm around Shiro’s shoulders, using the leverage to haul himself a bit off of the ground and closer to the other man, “I mean, you could have warned me before tackling me, but I’m definitely not complaining about this turn of events.”

“You were on _fire!”_ Shiro shouted, nearly right in Matt’s face, making him recoil a bit. “What was I supposed to do?”

“The fire was already out when you tackled me to the ground,” Matt huffed. He pulled himself a little closer, dropping his voice to a low whisper, “I’m sensing ulterior motives.”

Shiro might have gotten flustered under different circumstances, but his heart was already too busy racing with adrenaline. Gently, he pushed Matt back down to the ground, and moved away from his position atop him, “Matt, please, what’s going on?”

“Butane bubbles. Watch!” Matt shuffled away, and dunked his arm back in the water bucket before scooping up a much smaller amount of bubbles. Before he could bring his lighter to it, Shiro snatched it away. “Hey!”

“Don’t do it again!” Shiro shrieked, holding the lighter up in the air and high out of Matt’s reach, “are you trying to get yourself killed?!”

“Haven’t you taken basic chemistry?” Matt reached up for his lighter, and briefly considered actually climbing up Shiro to get it before giving up. He threw his head back with a dramatic groan, “just trust me for like, two minutes!”

Shiro didn’t answer, but relaxed the slightest amount, waiting patiently for any sort of explanation.

Trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, Matt let himself fall into teaching mode, and walked Shiro through every basic part of the experiment. “Okay, see this bucket? This here is full of just plain old ice water. This pan here? Is full of water and dish soap, and I used these cans of butane to make some bubbles in it. Now, I take my hand, and dip it in the ice water. Then, I scoop up some bubbles.” As he spoke, he did each motion he described, “now, I hold my hand out flat, up and away from me, because fire burns up from the point of ignition. So, when I light these bubbles, the butane ignites, and the fire is going to sprout up from my palm. These bubbles are big, so it burns through fast, and since the specific heat of water is so high, it takes a LOT of heat to warm it up. So, I’m only gonna feel some warmth in my palm before the fire burns through the last of its fuel, and goes out. Make sense?”

Shiro didn’t look convinced, but couldn’t argue the logic of the explanation. He gave a slow nod. “I… yeah, it makes sense.”

Matt held his hand out expectantly, “okay, then give me the lighter.”

“No!”

“DUDE!”

After careful consideration, Shiro slowly handed the lighter over. “If it doesn’t go out right away, I’m tackling you to the ground again,” he warned.

“Don’t tempt me with a good time.” Matt teased, and plucked the lighter from Shiro’s grasp. He held his small mass of bubbles far away from the other man before lighting it. True to his word, the fire briefly flared up from his palm, before vanishing completely. Matt held his seemingly unscathed hand back to Shiro, “see? Perfectly fine.”

Shiro took the hand in both of his, running his fingers lightly over Matt’s palm in disbelief, “Oh…” He noticed that Matt wasn’t exactly burn-free, but the few marks he found were older, all faint scars in varying stages of healing. “You’re… sure it’s  _ always  _ safe?”

“Anything with chemistry is safe if you do it right,” Matt pointed out. He caught a rather incredulous glance from Shiro, who silently pointed out the clusters of faint scars. Matt pulled his arm away, making an attempt to cover it with his other, equally marred arm, “I never said I always do things right. Butane bubbles are easy, though. Do you want to try it?”

“Absolutely not,” Shiro said without hesitation. He took a step back, and grabbed ahold of the fire extinguished laying on the ground nearby, “and I’m holding this.”

Matt paused, unsurprised by Shiro moving further away, but shocked that the other man planned on staying. “Suit yourself, I guess.” He took a single step back towards his pan of bubbles, and caught sight of Shiro’s grip tightening on the extinguisher. “You know, for a firefighter, you seem to be pretty spooked by fire.”

“I’m not exactly a fan of getting burned.”

Fair enough, Matt decided, taking it as a general statement before the obvious reason came to mind. “Oh, the whole,” Matt lightly tapped his own cheek, mirroring where Shiro’s scar was darkest, “that. You want to talk about it?”

It seemed as if Shiro was almost considering it, but instead he turned away, just enough to shift the right side of his face out of Matt’s view. “Not particularly.”

Matt shrugged it off, not about to pry on what was surely a delicate topic. “Alright, that’s okay. But, I do have a lot of experience with fire related therapy if you ever change your mind,” he joked, hoping it might lighten the mood a little.

The quip did get grin out of Shiro. “I don’t doubt that,” he said, “I just don’t like to talk about it.”

While Matt was decently sure seeing fire wouldn’t bother Shiro, given the man’s line of work, he still hesitated in going back to his experiment. “So...can I carry on? Or are you gonna douse me with that extinguisher the second I try to use the lighter?” He asked, “that stuff is cold, I’m not a fan.”

“Why am I not surprised you know that?” Shiro mused, getting a guilty grin in response. “You can keep going, with, whatever this is. I just… don’t feel safe leaving you here alone with it.” He reasoned, his explanation coming after a brief hesitation.

Matt didn’t question it. He couldn’t help to notice the lingering uncertainty in Shiro’s expression each time a handful of bubbles went up in flames, but holding the fire extinguisher did seem to calm him. Each successful attempt eased Shiro’s tension, to the point where he seemed comfortable with it.

Shiro even moved a bit closer over time, ending up just a foot to the side of Matt when he asked, “so this is the kind of thing you do in your spare time? As a… a, uh,” he trailed off, unsure if the term would be offensive or not.

“A pyromaniac,” Matt said, filling in the blank for him. He appreciate Shiro’s attempt at being delicate, not that it was necessary. “It’s not a bad word. Just misunderstood. And, to answer your question, burning stuff isn’t a thing I just do for fun, no.”

“Oh.” The answer caught Shiro off guard, his brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of it, “then, why do you do it?”

Matt struggled to find the right words to explain. It wasn’t the first time, and wouldn’t be the last time he had to do so, but it was a hard concept to get across to someone who’d never experienced it. He scooped up another large mound of bubbles, this one heaping in his palm and going down his forearm near his elbow, “sometimes it’s just kinda… impulse. Sometimes it’s planned. It’s relaxing, though. I mean, look at it.” He lit the pile from the lowest point of it on his arm, watching it rapidly trail up to his fingertips before speaking again. “This one’s only for a few seconds, but… It’s like instant relief. It’s bright, warm, and beautiful. To watch it up close, it’s like… everything that’s got me wound up kinda melts away for a little while. That’s a pretty powerful thing.”

Shiro still struggled to follow, making no effort to hide his apprehension. “Have you ever thought about something… Less destructive? Like painting?”

“Less destructive?” Matt snorted, “I’m not an arsonist. You know there’s a difference, right?” 

The lack of an answer was enough to tell Matt that no, Shiro didn’t think there was a difference.

Even though Matt had been wrongly lumped into the category too many times before, it still hurt. “I’m not trying to hurt anyone… I’m not trying to hurt myself, either,” he tried to explain, “I don’t want to destroy anything. I just want to watch the way the light flickers and rises, and hear how wood crackles, or watch how plastic bubbles and melts. I’m not a criminal. And I’m definitely not a monster.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Shiro said softly, “I just meant, it doesn’t seem like the greatest coping method.”

“Yeah, well, neither is bottling everything up,” Matt shot back. “We all have our flaws, hot stuff.”

“That’s not even remotely fair!” Shiro sputtered, apparently not expecting the callout to go both ways, “we don’t know each other enough for me to just… open up to you.”

“That’s okay. I get it. Everyone’s got a comfort zone. Buuuut,” He dragged out the word as he circled around behind Shiro. He put his hands lightly on Shiro’s shoulders, and turned him fully towards the pan of bubbles, “I’ve got a few more handfuls of fire here if you’re willing to inch outside of it.”

“This is about ten miles outside of my comfort zone,” Shiro pointed out, though not completely objecting to the idea. Morbid curiosity must have just barely outweighed his fear, and he decided,  “maybe… Just once. A small one.”

Matt paused in shock for a few seconds, having only asked out of courtesy more than any expectation of Shiro to consider it. Eagerly, he grabbed onto Shiro’s hand, making the conscious decision to go for the left rather than the right, “you won’t regret it, it’s so cool! Come here!” Instead of waiting for Shiro to move closer, Matt pulled him over to the bucket of water, “dip your hand in!”

Shiro did as told, dunking his left arm as far as it would go and waiting for the next instruction.

“Now, just get a few bubbles.” Matt held onto Shiro’s wrist, and guided him to scoop up a small amount of bubbles, and got up on his tiptoes to position Shiro’s arm upwards and away from the both of them, “okay, are you ready? You can change your mind. No judgement here.”

“No, I’m ready,” Shiro insisted, “go ahead.”

Matt lit the very tip of the pile of bubbles, but, instead of the fire, he focused on Shiro. On the way his breath hitched, how his widened eyes lit in a flash of orange, his face illuminated in the glow. He remained still afterwards, expression caught somewhere between shock and wonder. Matt very slowly and deliberately clasped his own hand over Shiro’s, knocking him out of brief daze. “See?” he asked softly, “no damage... Just beautiful.”

“Yeah,” Shiro said in a cracked voice, almost as more of a question than an answer.

“Are you okay?” Matt double-checked, not too convinced by the response, and seriously hoping he hadn’t done something wrong. “That didn’t, like, set off anything, did it?”

After letting out the breath he’d been holding in from the moment he dipped his hand in the water, Shiro relaxed the slightest bit. “No, I’m really okay, that was just… Strange,” he said, assuring both himself and Matt. “It still seems crazy to me, but, a little less so.”

Matt shrugged in response, hoping to seem nonchalant despite the fireworks going off in his chest. “It’s a hard thing to get. Probably especially for a guy who spends his life putting out fires.” Their eyes met again, Shiro’s hand still in his, and Matt could feel his stomach tie itself in a knot at the hint of a smile on Shiro’s face. Almost in a whisper, he added, “but, you know, they say opposites attract.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Shiro teased, just enough laughter coming through in his voice to admit he knew the answer.

Knowing full well he’d been caught dropping an absolute line on Shiro, Matt doubled down. “Maybe you like playing with fire a little more than you’ll admit,” he said with a wink. “You still want to get dinner with me, right?”

This time Shiro openly laughed, yet, he didn’t deny either part, simply responding with, “yeah, I do.”

When Matt asked, he refused to clarify if that went for both statements, or just dinner.


	4. Fire Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro rescues Matt for a second time.

_ By the time he had gotten to the scene, the building was absolutely drowning in fire, heat blurring the air and pouring over everything in the vicinity. In a few more minutes, the chance of finding any survivors would be extraordinarily slim, and judging by the sight of the scene, Shiro wasn’t confident the place was even safe to enter. But, they were given the go-ahead, he and a partner, to search out any more survivors before the building became unstable. _

_ Before long, his heart was pounding. His mouth felt like sand, his air supply was warming. They needed to turn back. Visibility rapidly declined, thick smoke covering more and more, even from the floor where they were forced to crawl. But Shiro held tight to the hose they’d brought in, their guide back out. Over the roar of flames, over the constant buzz of his radio, over distant screams, he heard a deafening crack. _

His eyes flung open, too wide, before he felt what had happened next. Immediately, he had to squint and shield himself from the sunlight pouring in through the cracks in the blinds. His heartbeat was too loud in his ears, each shaking breath almost coming as a surprise to him as he came down from the nightmare. Looking around at his surroundings did little to help ground him. His apartment barely looked lived-in, with plain furnishings, blank walls and unopened boxes. The only personal touch in his bedroom was a short laundry hamper near the door, with a few days worth of clothes beneath a slumbering cat.

His phone buzzing on the nightstand startled both him and his cat fully awake. Shiro gave her a sympathetic glance before checking the notification, a group message to the station.

_ Fire safety at the station today! Please keep it PG-13 for the kids. And no, that does not mean one person gets to say the F word. We could always use some help with demonstrations if anyone is free to stop by. _

By the time he’d finished reading the message, there were several dismayed replies about the “F word” rule.

He had halfheartedly planned on taking his day off to unpack some of the boxes piled up around his flat, considering he’d done almost nothing more than assemble a cat tower, and get well accustomed to how the fire sprinklers in his kitchen worked. It wasn’t procrastination, really. It was just… A step he wasn’t quite ready to take. The idea of doing anything else, even volunteering for a fire safety demonstration, sounded much more appealing. It was enough to sway him. 

The station wasn't even too far from his apartment. No longer than a 10-15 minute drive that he’d been getting more and more accustom to. It felt nice to have some sort of routine again, the start of actually creating a new life for himself in an unfamiliar town. He supposed that unpacking and no longer forcing himself to live out of labeled boxes would contribute to that feeling of  _ home.  _ He’d get there.

The station was bustling with people by the time he arrived, with dozens of children wearing bright red plastic hats, a handful of chaperones trying to keep them together, and partially geared-up firefighters, giving them tours. It was easy to get overlooked in the organized chaos of it. Shiro stuck to the outskirts, looking around for the fire chief, or a captain who could tell him how he could help. That was, until he saw a familiar green sweater, and the end of an auburn ponytail darting around a corner. Politely, Shiro excused himself through the crowd, following just in time to catch a supply closet door slamming shut in an empty hallway. He looked back to the main room, making sure no one took notice before he quietly opened the door, just enough to slip inside and shut it behind him.

The dark closet was smaller than he expected, and, in his haste to sneak in unnoticed, he’d bumped the only other occupant right into a corner, resulting in a rather high pitched shriek.

In the little space he had after being pushed against the supply shelf, Matt whirled around, clutching a hand over his heart, “who the FUCK- oh, god, it’s you.” He breathed a huge sigh of relief, slumping back to lean his full weight on the creaking shelf while he recovered from shock. “What are you doing in here?”

Shiro admittedly felt bad for scaring Matt, but, found himself too distracted by everything else in the situation to apologize. “I just caught you sneaking into a closet, and you’re asking me what  _ I’m  _ doing here?” He whispered, less out of consideration for Matt’s hiding place, and more out of fear of being caught in a supply closet with him. In the dim light peeking in through the closed blinds on the door, he could tell Matt was wearing one of the plastic fireman helmets the children all received. Fire safety hats. Just as the situation pieced itself together in Shiro’s head, one of Matt’s hands came to rest on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck, effectively halting his brain function.

“You followed me? Well, well, well, Mister Shirogane.” Matt pulled Shiro down gently, getting them that last inch closer to practically purr the words directly into his ear, “what are your intentions now that you’ve got me all alone in here?”

“It's not like that!” Shiro sputtered, backing away as he became consciously aware of just how close together they were. “I just… I wanted to know why you were here,” he explained. Though, he was pretty sure he already knew, thanks to the hat.

Matt pulled his hands away, slouching back down against the shelves. “Oh… So, there’s probably a slim chance of us kissing in here?”

“Extraordinary slim,” Shiro confirmed, hoping that Matt wouldn’t point out that still meant  _ possible _ .

If Matt had caught on, he didn’t show it, instead just shrugging it off. “Well, that’s disappointing,” he grumbled. “You can’t just push a guy up against a wall and get his hopes up, you know. Very rude of you.”

“My sincerest apologies,” Shiro said, in just about the most insincere tone he could manage. “You’re trying to get out of fire safety, aren’t you?”

“Lance dragged me here again,” Matt whined, “Do you know how many times I’ve been to fire safety?” He pulled the cherry-red hat off his head, leaving his bangs in a staticy disarray, “I have a PILE of these hats! They don’t even look good, they just clash with my hair.”

Having thought the hat to be quite cute, Shiro nearly argued that last point, but kept it to himself given the circumstances.

“Please don’t make me go back,” Matt begged, sounding truly despaired by the thought, “it’s just a bunch of kids, and that’s fine, but this time all the dads are either married or straight! Now, flirting my way through isn’t an option, and paying attention sure as hell isn’t either.”

“But hiding in a closet is?” Shiro teased, unsurprised that Matt’s initial plan had been to flirt with single dads the entire day. Something told him it wouldn’t have been the first time.

“I mean, if it’s a choice between that and fire safety, being in the closet is at least something I’ve done significantly less,” he joked. It was enough to make Shiro laugh, and Matt swatted at him in response. “Stop laughing! You’re gonna blow my cover,” he whispered, through his own stifled laughter.

“You can’t just stay in the closet all day,” Shiro reasoned. He didn’t doubt that Matt could, but he didn’t trust himself to keep it a secret, “I won’t let you.” 

He expected Matt to argue, sure, but he didn’t expect him to say, “fine. Then you can sneak me out of here!”

All Shiro could do was shake his head, sure that it was another joke. “You’re kidding, right?”

Matt, however, didn’t back down. “I know how the schedules go, you don’t work today. You’re just volunteering. So, if you don’t want me to hide in the closet, you can sneak me out.” Taking Shiro’s stunned silence as consideration, Matt continued, “play hooky with me. Come back to my place, watch some movies, and we’ll get take-out. I promise you’ll have way more fun than you would here, wrangling kids and teaching them not to play with matches. What do you say?”

Shiro had to admit, it was tempting, but not exactly something he would do. “Matt…  I can’t.”

“Who’s stopping you?” Matt plopped his plastic fireman hat onto Shiro’s head, and used the elastic band to pull him back close, yet again, “come on, play with fire a little bit. Not an innuendo, I swear.”

Shiro thought back to the last day he’d spent with Matt, and, innuendo aside, the first time he’d ever  _ played  _ with fire. He still felt conflicted, thinking of everything that could have gone wrong. But, for just a few seconds, fire had been something other than destruction and carnage. He had held it, and felt it, outside of nightmares, with no pain. It was still a terrifying thing, and a fixation he couldn’t understand. But, he was still curious. About the fire, partially, but mostly about Matt.

He backed up to the closet door, carefully peeking through the blinds to ensure the hallway was empty. What was the worst that could happen?

Matt followed, studying Shiro’s face rather than looking into the hallway. “You’re… thinking about it. Is this happening?”

“There’s a back door...” Shiro whispered, “down the rest of this hallway, to the right.” Tentatively, he grabbed onto Matt’s hand, and cracked open the door, “are you ready?”

Matt’s breath hitched, loudly in the silence of the small storage room. “Oh my god. You’re actually gonna do it. Hell yeah, I’m ready.”

Before he changed his mind, Shiro slipped out of the closet, pulling Matt along with him down the rest of the hallway, quickly dashing around the corner to get out of sight of the main foyer. He held a finger to his lips, and then pointed to the office doors lining the hallway, hoping Matt would take the hint to stay quiet. While all the office doors were shut, several appeared to have the lights on, and likely people inside.

Matt ignored the gesture, and squeezed their still clasped hands against his chest, “this is kind of romantic, right? In a cheesy, action movie kind of way?”

Shiro just gave him a quizzical glance, and mouthed  _ “seriously?” _ before he held a finger to his lips again. He started to lead Matt down the hallway, taking care to step quietly, and cringing when Matt whispered too-loudly again.

“I’m just saying, it’s totally fitting if we kiss after this.”

As soon as the words left Matt’s mouth, a door cracked open from behind them, multiple voices coming from inside the room. Shiro grabbed more firmly onto Matt’s hand, and yanked him forward to dash out the door several feet in front of them. He didn’t risk looking back to see if they’d been spotted, nor did he slow down as he rounded the outside of the building to find his car.

Matt gleefully followed, slightly out of breath by the time he was pulled to hide on the far-side of Shiro’s truck. “Do you think they saw us?!”

Shiro finally took the chance to peek back at the building, and saw no one pursuing them. Not that he would expect anyone to follow, or do anything more than be baffled by the two of them. “I don’t think so,” he said, and opened the passenger side door, “get in.”

Matt scrambled into the seat, but held the door open as Shiro moved to close it. “So. Is this, like, a date?” He asked hopefully.

“Not a date.”

“Worth a shot.”

* * *

 

Shiro wasn’t quite sure what he expected Matt’s home to be like. However, completely ordinary, devoid of any visible fire damage, and with at least a dozen small plants on the railing of a tiny porch was the last thing he would have guessed. He asked three times if it was the right house before they had even made it up the driveway, and he still didn’t quite believe the answer was yes until Matt had unlocked the door.

“What, did you think I lived in a lab? Or a fire pit?” Matt teased, clearly catching onto Shiro’s shock.

Shiro didn’t answer, too caught off guard by the inside of the small, two floor home. The first thing that hit him was a near overwhelming sweetness in the air, which he quickly identified to be the multitudes of candles dotted around the place. That wasn’t surprising, the more he thought about it, but the general tidiness of the place was. Finally, he spotted something that seemed more fitting, and poked his boot at a scorch mark in the hardwood floor. He glanced around, finding nothing nearby the spot outside a lone outlet low on the wall. His curiosity got the better of him, and he turned to Matt, “what’s this mark from?”

Matt flushed and averted his eyes, but his embarrassment did little to hide the thrilled gleam they held at the memory. “It was one of those automatic air freshener plug-ins.”

“It caught on fire?” Shiro had enough experience responding to spontaneous combustions of household objects to know it was possible, if unlikely.

“No, I lit a candle in front of where it sprayed. Went exactly as you’d expect,” he admitted, not the least bit regretful.

Shiro’s widened eyes then caught sight of another blackened mark on a nearby rug, and the hint of a burn peeking out from behind a hung painting of a sunset. “I’m, uh, not going to ask about the other burns,” he decided.

“Probably for the best!” Matt flopped himself down on the center of a cushy sofa, and patted the cushion next to him expectantly, “come on, big couch, Netflix, and I’m thinking maybe Thai food? But, I can be swayed.”

Shiro took the seat beside Matt, hoping whichever movie they decided on would chase away the thought of the air freshener scenario. He caught Matt scooching an inch closer soon after, but, it was still a comfortable distance. As was the next inch closer that came with each movie. He didn’t object when eventually, Matt’s head found its way to his shoulder. At some point, he leaned into the contact, neither of them realizing how late it had gotten.

The next thing Shiro knew, his shoulders were being gently shaken, his vision fuzzy as he blinked his eyes open and heard,

“Hey. Hey, wake up.” 

Fingers carded through his bangs, in what he believed was an attempt to arrange them against his forehead.

“Man, you have some serious bed head for a guy who slept sitting up,” Matt whispered, the voice finally registering in Shiro’s drowsy mind.

“What? Is it morning?” He slurred, voice still thick with sleep. Though the room was still dimly lit, just enough light filtered through the curtains to answer his question.

“Sure is,” Matt confirmed, still fussing with Shiro’s bangs longer than he needed to, “and, as much as I’d love to spend more time with you, I have to be at the university in like, an hour, and I’m afraid you’ll hide all my matches and lighters if I leave you here alone.”

Shiro took a deep breath as he straightened, stretching through the discomfort of having slept slouched upright the whole night. Once his eyes came properly into focus, he took in the significant difference in Matt’s appearance. He had actually braided his hair back, put on a nice pair of slacks, and wore a dark purple sweater vest over a button-up with a matching plaid bow tie. “You look nice.”

“Thanks. It’s my geek-chic professor look. You should see me in a lab coat, I’ve got a light blue one to go full Bill Nye with it.”

“That’s… cute,” Shiro mumbled, unable to tell if it was a joke or not. He finally pushed Matt’s hand away from his bangs, and set to fixing them himself, “sorry, I really didn’t mean to crash on your couch. I can leave.”

While Matt was the one to tell Shiro he needed to leave in the first place, he seemed awfully reluctant to let him go, stepping in Shiro’s path as soon as the other got up from the couch. “don’t apologize, it was fun. We should do it again some time, when I don’t have to kick you out. I’ll make pancakes!” He insisted, and then pressed a warm travel cup into Shiro’s hands, “here, I made coffee. You seem like a black coffee kind of guy who secretly likes cream and sugar, so, there’s cream and sugar in it.”

Shiro took the strangely shaped red cup, and upon closer inspection, realized it was a small plastic fire hydrant, complete with a bendy straw coming up out of the top. “Is this… a fire hydrant sippy cup?”

“Yeah. You can take it with you, I’ve got a bunch of them.” He took ahold of Shiro’s free hand, slowly guiding him to the door. “Thank you, by the way. For yesterday. I really didn’t expect mister code of ethics himself to sneak me out of a fire safety demonstration.”

“Mister code of ethics?” Shiro repeated, quirking an eyebrow as he followed, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Matt shrugged, “you know. You’re a by-the-books kind of guy. Lawful good, strict morals. You’ve got some weird reservation about me because you saved my life, but, you like me.”

Shiro chose to ignore the part where Matt gave him a character alignment. He tried to pick his words carefully, not exactly wanting to give away too much. If there was one thing Matt was spot-on about, it was his reservation. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you,” he said.

“Yeah, but you LIKE me like me. You don’t follow just anyone into a dark supply closet. That’s a close friends and crushes type deal. Anyone else, you just knock on the door or ignore it,” Matt insisted.

“So, your logic here, is that  _ I _ have a crush on  _ you,  _ because I was curious about you sneaking around?” Shiro clarified, neither confirming nor denying the theory.

“That and, every single chance you’ve had, you’ve chosen to spend more time with me. Like, the parking lot. And dinner afterwards. And, you know, you just spent the night at my house. I am literally having to kick you out.” Matt seemed to catch on to Shiro’s reluctance to give firm answers, and went for the direct approach. “Tell me, honestly,” he asked, “if we had met some normal way, and not with you saving my life, you’d go on a date with me, right?”

Shiro knew the answer, but didn’t give it. There was another side to the hypothetical that held him back. “How are you so sure you’d feel the same?”

Matt stared at him as if he were crazy, borderline offended by the question. “You’re kidding, right? Have you seen yourself? That alone would have done it. Then I would have found out you’re a nice, caring guy, and, you know, a freaking firefighter. I’d be head over heels in no time!"

While it made Shiro blush, the admission still came as a weight off his shoulders. It was… relaxing to know that Matt’s feelings weren’t just some sort of hero glorification. Yet, it was also nerve wracking to know it was stronger than a little crush between them. “So… Are you saying you’re head over heels for me now?”

With that, it was Matt’s turn to get flustered. “I. Uh. Well, you know, logically that’s a conclusion you can make,” he stammered, looking anywhere but at Shiro. Finally, his eyes found their way to the watch on his wrist, “look at the time! I definitely have to go to work. No time to unpack feelings, that’s for sure!” He awkwardly clasped Shiro on the shoulder, staying his entire arm’s length away as he did so, “I’ll, uh, see you around? Maybe? Hopefully?”

For once, it was Shiro who closed the gap between them, taking a good step forward. He brushed a loose strand of hair behind Matt’s ear, really feeling the heat coming off Matt’s face as he did so. “Yeah. Have a good day at work.”


	5. Flashpoint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know when neither of you are on the same page, so you switch pages, and now you're still not on the same page because you're fools? That, but with bonus fire.

The department had asked him exactly how dangerous the experiment was. Apparently,  _ “extremely dangerous, there’s a lot of cases of serious injuries and a few rumored deaths,” _ was not a good answer. Matt considered that maybe, brutal, morbid honesty might not be the best way to answer these kinds of questions, but, it was too late now. In any case, they had approved it, but not without the stipulation that there had to be a firefighter on stand-by. That  _ would _ have been great news, if the department hadn’t refused his request for a specific firefighter.

“This isn’t like requesting a cute pizza delivery driver, Holt. This could be a matter of life and death,” the department head insisted. But, the joke was on her, pizza places won’t let Matt request a certain person anymore either!

Alright. Maybe that wasn’t a point in his favor. But, it was a point he had made, in an argument he did not win.

It’s not that he was worried about the experiment going wrong. He had no doubt it would go off without a hitch, he was a trained and practiced professional who made fireworks in his backyard for fun. This was nothing, he didn’t really need a standby! He just wanted Shiro to see it. He had been trying his damnedest to show Shiro the beautiful, non-scary parts of fire, and there was almost nothing cooler than making a rainbow out of flames. The part where he had to use highly flammable, toxic materials might be a scary to some, but, that was half the fun. He would have invited Shiro normally, as a friend rather than a supervisor, but… The other man had grown more and more distant since their sleepover. They’d spent time together since then, sure, but recently Shiro was  _ always _ busy, and never mentioned what with. That, coupled with Matt’s confession of pretty strong feelings did not bode well. Matt was seriously worrying that he’d finally worn the other’s patience thin, that Shiro was genuinely not interested in him, with or without the whole saved-his-life ethical dilemma in the way. Maybe Shiro had just decided he was too… complicated. Maybe he’d met someone else, and just didn’t want to hurt Matt’s feelings? Maybe all of the above?? The more Matt thought about it, the more thought it might be best if he got a different supervisor.

Shiro had, of course, heard about the experiment. Or rather, he’d heard another firefighter desperately trying to pawn off an assignment to  _ “babysit the mad scientist,”  _ and was able to put two and two together. It occurred to him that, in his determination to finally unpack the rest of his apartment, he hadn’t seen Matt in a while. The job of being on standby for a high risk experiment wasn’t tempting… But, it  _ was _ a good opportunity. He volunteered to take the assignment, not without the playful teasing of a few crew members on his ulterior motives with the “crazy professor.” To be fair, they weren’t entirely wrong.

He imagined Matt would be ecstatic when he showed up for the experiment, and was rather caught off guard when his arrival was met with a deer-in-headlights, almost  _ fearful _ stare.

“They said they wouldn’t send you…” Matt squeaked out, nearly dropping the jug of ethyl alcohol he was holding.

Shiro reached out to help steady him, concerned both for Matt and for the large amount of a flammable substance. “I thought you’d be happy to see me,” he joked, trying to hide his disappointment for a negative reaction.

As soon as he had his bearings, Matt shuffled away from Shiro, circling around to the other side of his presentation desk. “I’m glad to see you, I just... haven’t seen you in a while. I got surprised is all,” he reasoned, leaving out the immense amount of overthinking regarding Shiro that he’d done in the past few days.

“I know, I know, that’s part of why I came,” Shiro explained. He looked around, seeing students begin to fill the lecture hall, and realized that now wouldn’t be the best time for a chat. “Can we… talk? After the experiment?”

Matt’s heart just about hit the floor, or at the very least, the bottom of his stomach. He was sure that this was it, the gentle, no going back let down he’d been dreading for days. He did little more than nod, and try not to look as absolutely crushed as he felt.

“Are you okay?” Shiro leaned over the counter, trying to read Matt’s expression under the large pair of safety goggles he wore, “you’re not nervous, are you?”

“I’m kind of a little bit nervous,” Matt admitted, though he had a feeling Shiro meant about the experiment, rather than their conversation.

“You shouldn’t be. This is what you’re great at, right? And I’ll be right here if you need me,” Shiro held up the fire extinguisher he brought with him, giving a little knock on the tank, “nothing to worry about.”

Matt gave him a half-smile, not quite believing that last claim, but still finding some comfort in it. “Thanks… You should stand a little further away though,” he warned, “and don’t get too spooked. This fire is gonna look pretty intense, but, as long as nothing  _ else  _ catches on fire, it’ll be okay.”

Shiro did as suggested, and took several large steps back. In his haste to take the assignment, he hadn’t actually asked about the  _ details _ of it. “What exactly is this experiment…?”

“You’ll see.”

Once the majority of his class had filtered in, and settled down, Matt shooed Shiro a bit further away, and resumed his set up. Along the front of the counter, he spaced out half a dozen aluminum cups, filling each one with a small amount of different salts, naming each one as he went.

Shiro tried to keep up as the compounds were named, though, probably not as well as the students.  _ Strontium chloride? Barium nitrate? _ The names weren’t totally unfamiliar, but it had definitely been a while since he had taken a chemistry class.

Matt poured a carefully measured amount of ethyl alcohol into each of the cups, telling the class that it would be the fuel for each fire. He went on to explain that, when heated, atoms move to an unstable, excited state. When they return to their stable state, any excess accumulated energy will be released in the form of light. Different ions correspond to different wavelengths of light, and as a result, will give each fire a unique color.

He turned down the lights in the lecture hall, and checked to see if Shiro was ready on standby. After getting a thumbs up, Matt lit the contents of the cups one by one, each flaring high in a different, vibrant color. One of them deep pink, one a bright crimson red, one a light, almost lilac purple, and another neon blue. Shiro watched in amazement, blown away by the array of colors. He’d seen an awful lot of fire, but  _ green?  _ That was new, and almost magical to look at.

The class, of course, was equally excited, many of the students snapping pictures and videos as the flames burned up a foot or higher. Shiro had the feeling very few of them were listening to the scientific explanations for each reaction, and to be honest, he had trouble focusing on the lecture as well. At some point, his focus shifted from the fire to Matt, still excitedly explaining the science behind it all to deaf ears. Shiro had to admit, it was one hell of a sight to see him in a rainbow glow, his eyes lit up like the familiar, golden-orange fire that was missing from the demonstration.

Shiro stayed around for the rest of the class, which didn’t go too much longer than the experiment. It turned out, the demonstration was less of a lesson, and more of an end of the semester reward for the students. He was sure it was also in part an excuse for Matt to play around with neon fire.

While Matt had relaxed during his presentation, as soon as he dismissed the class, the reality of his talk with Shiro set back in. He tried to avoid eye contact, packing up his supplies and hoping that  _ maybe he’ll forget and just leave, _ until he felt that tap on his shoulder.

“You want help packing up?” Shiro offered.

Matt gently swatted Shiro’s hands away from his supplies, and tried to shoo him towards the nearest exit. “No, you don’t have to, it’s okay, I’m sure you’re really busy and all if you want to just leave!” He said, scrambling through the words as if saying them faster would make Shiro leave quicker.

Shiro stood his ground. “No, I’ve got time. I wanted to talk to you,” he said, baffled as Matt’s face drained of color. “Are you okay?”

“Never better,” Matt claimed, just about ready for death to take him away rather than have this conversation.

“Okay...” While not exactly convinced, Shiro went ahead anyways. “I was wondering if you were free tonight. I wanted to invite you over for dinner.”

“Oh?” The gears churned in Matt’s head, trying to figure out where this conversation was going. Wasn’t this the part where Shiro was supposed to tell him he  _ didn’t _ want to spend more time with him? That, and, “isn’t your apartment all boxes…?” he asked, remembering Shiro to have mentioned it more than once.

“I unpacked all of it!” Shiro smiled, clearly proud of himself for it. He knew it was about time, but, it was still a rather large milestone he was excited to share. “I thought, maybe you could come over to see, and meet my cat.”

Matt stared silently, connecting the dots. Shiro had been busy  _ unpacking? _  In all of his overthinking, that hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d just assumed the worst, and let it drag him down for nothing. He huffed a huge sigh of relief, which likely only confused Shiro more, “Yeah, dinner sounds great. I’d love to.”

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“Am I....?” Matt questioned, some of his panic coming back to him.

“You’re supposed to ask me if it’s a date,” Shiro joked. Go figure, from the moment they met, Matt had asked the same question over and over again, and wouldn't ask the first time the answer was  _yes._

Matt nearly dropped his box of supplies in whiplash. He couldn’t decided if this conversation was good or not, but it was certainly stressful. “Are you making fun of me?” He asked, unable to come to another conclusion.

Shiro began to second guess himself, considering every reaction he’d gotten from Matt was against his sure expectations. “No, Matt, I’m asking you on a  _ date,”  _ he clarified. Surely that couldn’t get misunderstood.

“Holy fuck. You- you just said that, right?” This time Matt  _ did _ drop the box of supplies, smacking it back onto the counter top with an amount of glass clinking that might have concerned him if he were remotely focused on it. All of the color returned to his face much too fast, going from crushed to flustered in record time. “That wasn’t me, wishful thinking too hard. You just asked me on a date. A real, romantic, we might kiss kind of date. With you. And me. A date?”

Shiro had just about given up on predicting what Matt would do next, and just shyly nodded. “Yeah. A date.”

“Tonight, right? Tonight. Uh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t prepared for this,” Matt admitted. If anything, he had been thoroughly prepared for the  _ opposite  _ of this. He wrapped his arms around Shiro’s torso, pulling himself in and smushing his face against Shiro’s shoulder. “A date. Holy shit. It’s about time,” he rambled on, words muffled by the face full of cloth, “I thought you were like, breaking up with me.”

While Matt’s excitement came as a huge relief to Shiro, he couldn’t help but take the opportunity to tease him. “You  _ do _ know we weren’t dating until just now... right?”

“You know what I mean!”

* * *

 

In hindsight, Shiro might have gotten in over his head. Apparently, a fully unpacked and stocked kitchen  _ did not  _ instantaneously increase his cooking skills like he’d hoped. Still, he wasn’t a  _ bad _ cook, just inexperienced. If he followed the recipe exactly, what was the worst that could happen? He shared his line of thought with Black, though, she didn’t respond outside of pawing at his leg for a sample of whatever he was making. Well, if the cat still wanted to eat some, that was a good sign.

As soon as a knock came on his door, Shiro raced to answer it, nearly tripping over his cat in the process. Before he could get a word out, a warm pan was shoved into his arms.

“I made brownies! Special brownies.” Matt beamed up at Shiro until he processed his own words, and scrambled to correct himself. “Oh god, no, not special like that. They’re s’mores brownies. So, special because of the marshmallow. And the toasted top. I just wanted to use a blow torch. I didn’t drug the brownies.”

Shiro smiled, letting Matt finish his ramblings uninterrupted. “You seem nervous.”

Matt leaned against the door frame, any remaining facade of confidence vanishing as he sighed, “I’m sorry. I’m still… a little in shock.” He hadn’t exactly recovered from the whiplash earlier, still partially convinced he might be dreaming.

“Don’t be sorry. It’s okay.” Shiro set the pan of brownies on the nearest table, and took hold of Matt’s hand, “come on in, I’m sure Black wants to meet you.”

Matt clutched onto Shiro’s hand with both of his own, hesitantly following inside, “what if she doesn’t like me?”

“I like you, so she’ll like you too,” Shiro assured him. He plucked Black up from the ground, where she had absolutely been going for another tripping attempt, and gently plopped her into Matt’s arms.

Matt clutched the cat close to him, but was too caught up in what Shiro said to pay her too much attention, even as she tried to wiggle free. “Aww, you like me?”

Shiro raised an eyebrow at him, unsure if Matt was just teasing, or if Shiro had  _ genuinely  _ been that closeted with his feelings. “Matt, I asked you here on a date.”

“I know, I know, you just said it all cute,” he explained. If he was being honest, it made him feel much more at ease to hear Shiro say it again. The squirming cat in his arms had less of a calming effect. So much for Black liking whoever Shiro did. He let her jump free from his arms, before looking around Shiro’s apartment better. There was still a small stack of empty boxes beside a bookshelf, but just going off of Shiro’s previous descriptions of the place he imagined a lot of progress had been made. There were a few paintings hung, a plant on the coffee table, a plethora of books lining more than one shelf. It wasn’t exactly  _ lived in _ yet, but, it was definitely a great start.  He was going to say as much, until he eyed a small cloud of smoke coming from the kitchen. “Is… something burning?"

Fear flashed through Shiro’s expression as his head whipped to face the kitchen. He cursed under his breath, and rushed to see what he’d forgotten on the stove. Matt followed close behind, a little guilty he’d distracted Shiro from cooking, and hoping it wasn’t too serious.

Shiro took the lid off the smoking pan in question, regretting the decision when he found the contents flaming, the added oxygen doing nothing more than fueling the fire. He cursed his own lack of cooking skills, and swatted at the flame with a nearby towel, but soon enough the sprinkler overhead kicked in. Shiro did his best to shout apologies over the loud spray of water, abandoning the now taken-care-of fire to rummage through a kitchen drawer and pulling out a bright yellow, staple-gun-esque contraption. Swiftly, but carefully, he hauled himself up onto the counter top, standing atop it to reach the sprinkler. He clamped the device over it, stopping the flow of water in an unfortunately well-practiced motion.

Matt stood nearby, dumbfounded by the turn of events. The fire wasn’t bad, but the  _ sprinkler?  _ He could have done without. He was absolutely soaked by the unexpected shower, and admittedly a little upset that the hard work he’d put into his hair and outfit was washed away. Still, he was impressed by how well Shiro handled the chaos. “You just… have a sprinkler stopper that quickly on hand?”

“This… Um… Isn’t the first time this has happened.” Shiro admitted, and carefully climbed down from the dripping countertop. He put his hand on Matt’s shoulder and inspected to see if he’d gotten hurt at all in the chaos. From the looks of it, he was just shocked and wet, but Shiro was still mortified. “I’m really sorry. Are you okay? You can borrow some clothes. I can dry yours.”

Matt lit up at the idea of wearing Shiro’s clothes, and immediately began undoing the buttons on his shirt, “seriously? Hell yeah. Have you got a sweater?”

“Yeah, come here.” Shiro guided Matt to his bedroom, handing him a towel from the closet on the way. He rummaged through his drawers, and pulled out a clean black sweater and the softest sweatpants he could find. “Here, I can step out so you can-” He turned to hand the clothing to Matt, finding him already shirtless and toweling off his hair. “you already took your shirt off…”

Matt flushed, slowly bringing the towel down to cover himself, “sorry, should I have waited?”

Shiro felt his own face grow warm, and tore his eyes away from Matt’s exposed torso to grab a change of clothes for himself, “N-no, that’s okay. Um. I’ll just… I’ll change in the bathroom. Let me know when you’re done.”

“Got it.” Matt slipped the new, dry clothes on, and wadded his previous ones into a damp ball, wrapped in the towel Shiro gave him. He inspected himself in the mirror hung on the back of the bathroom door, fixing himself up as best as he could with wet hair and too-big clothes before knocking, “hey, I’m all changed!” He struck a little pose when Shiro opened the door, one hand on his hip, and the other up in the air, hand mostly covered by the slightly long sleeves of his sweater, “How do I look?”

Shiro laughed, relieved that Matt didn’t seem to be too upset about the sprinkler incident. “You look cute…”

“Great! Because we’re dating now, and that means this sweater is mine.” He shoved his hands into the pockets, clearly not going to budge on the stance. “Those are the rules.”

“You can borrow it,” Shiro said, not bothering to dispute it, “it’s the least I can do. I’m really sorry again about the fire. And the sprinkler. And dinner. I… I’m really messing up this dating thing.”

“No, it’s okay, you didn’t mess it up!” Matt assured him. He was still ecstatic to just  _ have _ a date with Shiro, and a surprise fire didn’t damper that at all. If anything, it added to it. “But, you know, if you really do feel bad, you can make it up to me.”

Before asking him to elaborate, Shiro got the same feeling he did every time Matt encouraged him to play with fire, literally or metaphorically. A little bit nervous, but, too curious to miss out. “How so?”

“Can we… Maybe… Kiss?” Matt asked shyly. When more than a few seconds went by without a response, he rushed to fill the silence. “I mean, if you don’t kiss on first dates, that’s okay, but, I’ve sorta wanted to kiss you from the moment we met and all, and now I’m pretty sure you wanted to kiss me too, but the whole you were worried I didn’t  _ really _ like you thing, but I do REALLY like you, and… oh.” he trailed off as Shiro cupped his face, and leaned in to plant a soft, sweet kiss on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Man. I don't really have words left. Or, rather, I have TOO many words left, and already have a sequel planned for this fic. (Surprise: Matt's family is 75% pyromaniacs in this AU and you bet your butt I'm writing about Colleen and Sam's first meeting where they fall in love over illegal fireworks and one of em loses a finger.)  
> Thanks for reading!! <3


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